Loading...
Loading...
2,201 illustrations — Poetic illustrations and verse for preaching
might I kiss those eyes of fire, A million scarce would quench desire; Still would I steep my lips in bliss, And dwell an age on every kiss; Nor then my soul should sated be, Still would I kiss and...
Good-night? ah! no; the hour is ill Which severs those it should unite; Let us remain together still, Then it will be GOOD night. How...
A Pang is more conspicuous in Spring In contrast with the things that sing Not Birds entirely -- but Minds -- Minute Effulgencies and Winds...
In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light. In summer quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day.
THE dead have been awakened--shall I sleep? The World's at war with tyrants--shall I crouch? The harvest's ripe--and shall I pause to reap? I slumber not; the thorn is in my Couch; Each day a trumpet soundeth in mine ear, Its echo in my heart----
Except for Angels -- lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown. Except for winds -- provincial. Except by Butterflies Unnoticed as a single dew That on the Acre lies.
WHAT are to me those honours or renown Past or to come, a new-born people's cry? Albeit for such I could despise a crown Of aught save laurel, or for such could die.
Chorus.—Robin shure in hairst, I shure wi’ him. Fient a heuk had I, Yet I stack by him. I GAED up to Dunse, To warp a wab o’ plaiden, At his daddie’s yett, Wha met me but Robin: Robin shure, &c.
No, Music, thou art not the 'food of Love.' Unless Love feeds upon its own sweet self, Till it becomes all Music murmurs of.
melancholy star! Whose tearful beam glows tremulously far, That show'st the darkness thou canst not dispel, How like art thou to Joy remembered well!
O mighty mind, in whose deep stream this age Shakes like a reed in the unheeding storm, Why dost thou curb not thine own sacred rage?
to see such Circumspection, In Ladies I have no objection Concerning what they read; An ancient Maid's a sage adviser, Like _her_, you will be much the wiser, In word, as well as Deed.
Is Heaven a Physician? They say that He can heal -- But Medicine Posthumous Is unavailable -- Is Heaven an Exchequer? They speak of what...
UNHAPPY Dives! in an evil hour 'Gainst Nature's voice seduced to deeds accurst! Once Fortune's minion now thou feel'st her power; Wrath's vial on thy lofty head hath burst. In Wit, in Genius, as in Wealth the first, How wondrous bright thy blooming morn arose!
'Buona notte, buona notte!'--Come mai La notte sara buona senza te? Non dirmi buona notte,--che tu sai, La notte sa star buona da per se. Solinga, scura, cupa, senza speme, La notte quando Lilla m'abbandona; Pei cuori chi si batton...
Rough wind, that moanest loud Grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud Knells all the night long; Sad storm whose tears are vain, Bare woods, whose branches strain, Deep caves and dreary main,-- Wail, for the world's wrong!
The Notice that is called the Spring Is but a month from here -- Put up my Heart thy Hoary work And take a Rosy...
I heard thy fate without a tear, Thy loss with scarce a sigh; And yet thou wast surpassing dear, Too loved of all to die. I know not what hath seared my eye-- Its tears refuse to start; But every...
THE summer sun shone round me, The folded valley lay In a stream of sun and odour, That sultry summer day. The tall trees stood...
"Heavenly Father" -- take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband -- Though to trust us -- seems...
Cruel Cerinthus! does the fell disease Which racks my breast your fickle bosom please? I wish'd but to o'ercome the pain, That I might live for Love and you again; But, now, I scarcely shall bewail my fate: By Death...
And who feels discord now or sorrow? Love is the universe to-day-- These are the slaves of dim to-morrow, Darkening Life's labyrinthine way.
Such a starved bank of moss Till, that May-morn, Blue ran the flash across: Violets were born! Sky--what a scowl of cloud Till, near and far, Ray on ray split the shroud: Splendid, a star!
Margaret, are you grieving Over Goldengrove unleaving? Leaves, like the things of man, you With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
SermonWise.ai generates complete sermon outlines for any passage across 17 theological traditions.
Generate a sermon →